A Dark and Quiet Room

I'm moving...

2006-03-22T15:56:00.000-06:00

...to a different blog! My new address is http://greatwolf.blogpeoria.com/ Please pardon the mess while I get everything organized.

Best of my best

2006-03-16T16:50:00.000-06:00

Something that has been suggested for bloggers is to put links to "Best of..." in their sidebars. That way, a new visitor can get a sense of the sort of content available on the blog and returning visitors can easily locate popular articles. If you look to your right (no, the other right), you can see where I've started doing this. I currently have four items on this list. My question to you, my faithful readers, is this: are there any other items that you can think of which you think should be added to this list? Please let me know in comments. If I don't get any comments, then I'll know that no one is listening.

Aztecs with Nukes

2006-03-16T16:34:00.000-06:00

(For those of you bored with game-related entries, please ride this one out.  There is a point at the end.  Two, in fact!)

Last night I stayed up way too late and finished my current game of Civilization IV.  For those of you who don’t know, Civilization IV is the latest entry in the Civilization series.  In it, you take a civilization from founding its first city into the modern era and beyond.  The game can be won in a variety of ways, including overall performance, control of a large portion of the available land, simply wiping out everyone else, earning a diplomatic win from the United Nations, building the three greatest cities in the world, or being the first to launch a colony ship to Alpha Centauri.  There’s a lot of detail in the game, and I enjoy the changing technologies and time periods.  Early in the game, you’re building city walls mustering spearmen and archers to defend against barbarians.  Late in the game, you’re launching SDI satellites and running bombing missions with Stealth bombers.  Lots of fun.

In the game that I just finished, I was playing the Aztecs.  Recently, I bought a board game called Mexica which is about building the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan, so I’ve been doing some reading about these people.  So, they were on my mind when I started this game.

Now, like any self-respecting Aztec, determined to preserve himself, when I located the Spanish, I killed them as quickly as possible.  Then I settled into the raising of a large and prosperous civilization and intimidating everyone else into submission.  I figured that I’d aim for a Time Victory, which means that I have the overall best civilization by the year 2050.

Then disaster struck.  One of my neighbors across the sea (the Americans, actually) began the project of building the colony ship.  I knew that he would complete the project before 2050, costing me the game.  So, my course was clear.  I declared war on him and launched my attack.

However, this was different than my war on the Spanish.  The conquest of the Spanish had been led by hordes of Jaguar Warriors, armed with obsidian-studded clubs.  The war against the Americans was spearheaded by a massive nuclear strike.

That’s right.  I pushed the Red Button.  I will confess that, game or no game, I cringed a bit at the necessity.  There was something sobering about the initial strike.  Even though the American SDI system shot down most of my missiles, a couple made it through.

Mushroom clouds bloomed over Boston.

It was a little disturbing at first.  But soon that changed.

The other surrounding nations also began building colony ships.  So I declared war on all of them.  At one point, I was at war with three nations at the same time.  I needed that edge, if I were to take them on.  So, as my tanks crossed the frontier, the missiles again began to rain from the sky.

Soon I had thrown the entire weight of my economy behind producing tanks and ICBMs.  Every five turns or so, I had another salvo ready to be launched.  Most were shot down by defense lasers, but enough found their mark to deliver their deadly payload.

Other ill effects began to show themselves.  The fallout spread across the globe, damaging the earth.  Large stretches of desert appeared as the result of my constant nuclear bombardments.  But still I persevered.

I presided over my very own World War III.

Finally, one of the other nations built the United Nations and quickly implemented a nuclear ban.  I was unable to continue my nuclear assault.  But, by then, the damage had been done.  By 2050, none of the colony spaceships were ready for launch, and I won.  The American homeland was literally glowing in places as we slid across the finish line.  Doing a little poking around, I discovered that they would have completed the final component of their spaceship in just three turns.  Three more turns and I still would have lost.

It was a nail-biting end to what could have been a fairly mundane endgame.

But that’s not my point in writing all this up.

Instead, I have a couple of thoughts.

First, while I have a hard time asserting that a game is a reasonable historical simulator, I found myself thankful that the Aztec people had not developed their culture into the modern era.  The little reading that I have done confirms for me that they were a blood-thirsty and violent people.  What if the Aztecs had been equipped with nukes?  Is my scenario so far off?

The second point is a little more personal.  Even though it is only a game, I had the feeling of crossing a line when I launched my first nuke.  I was about to do something irreversible.  Something deadly.  Something…bad.  Indeed, the icon on the screen to launch a missile is a picture of a Big Red Button.  I pushed the Red Button.

Anyone who grew up during any part of the Cold War should understand this sort of feeling.  I remember living in New Jersey at age six or so, seeing a map of the devastation that would result if a 100-megaton warhead were to be detonated in New York City.  My home would have been affected by the blast.  It scared me deeply.
So, here I was, starting a nuclear war.

Yet, very quickly, necessity took over.  After all, I needed these nukes to win the game.  Losing was not an option.  So, soon I needed more missiles.  More missiles!  Easily half of my economic power was dumped into creating these missiles.  As soon as one was ready, I launched it.  What had started as a horrible act became normal and, indeed, rejoiced over.  I was thrilled whenever a missile became available, and I mentally cheered whenever one penetrated the SDI defenses of my foes.

And I realized how quickly we humans become hardened.  What was once evil becomes distasteful, then becomes needful, and soon becomes rewarded.  Bleak?  Perhaps.  But very true.

And I wonder how much of our foreign policies are formed in just the same way.

Tikal

2006-03-16T09:46:00.000-06:00

I've been reading about the Mayans recently. I figure that I'll end up blogging about it in the near future, but, in the meantime, check out this virtual tour of Tikal.

The Town of Allopath

2006-03-16T09:43:00.000-06:00

The Town of Allopath Does this sound like any place you know?

A brief note about nothing

2006-03-14T21:06:00.000-06:00

I don't feel like I've really been blogging much recently. Maybe that's because I haven't been. So, now I have some time. I could blog. I could write about Tikal or about how I've been reading about Mesoamerica, because of the board games that I recently bought (Tikal and Mexica). I could discuss how I read my first John le Carre book. Or I could go play Civilization IV. See ya round!

Doug Wilson on Sins of the Tongue

2006-03-13T10:10:00.000-06:00

Trial By Internet I've been appreciating Pastor Wilson's series entitled "A Justice Primer", but I thought that this article was particularly apt.

Cold and tired

2006-03-07T00:20:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure how I should be feeling right now. I feel like maybe I ought to be upset or heavy-hearted. Instead, I'm just tired. Maybe that's a coping technique; I don't know. I went down to the hospital tonight to see William. I had been there in the morning, and he was moving a bit and was warm to the touch. I was planning on going back down there to read Beowulf to him. William and I had talked a bit about Beowulf; it was one of his favorite stories. But when I arrived at the hospital, I found that William was doing worse. His skin was pallid and yellow, and he was cool to the touch. It reminded me of touching my mother when she was dead. He wasn't moving anymore. But still the ventilator continued its hideous mockery of human breathing. Inflate, deflate, inflate, deflate, in, out, in, out. And his chest heaving up and down, like his body was pretending to breathe. It's run off me. It doesn't hurt anymore. At least, it doesn't hurt now. At the hospital, I held it together because I wasn't there for me; I was there for William's family. And now, honestly, I'm just too tired to feel hurt. The pain doesn't stab anymore. It just drags at me, like gravity, pulling me down. Yesterday I cried. Today I am cold. Am I cold? What does this mean? Have I done something wrong that I am not feeling anything? Or is it just too much, and so I shunt it to the side? Or is it a special grace from God? I don't know. I'm tired, but I think that I will be able to sleep well. So, perhaps I should. After all, there's still much to be done. My work isn't over. And tomorrow, William may be dead.

A totally geeky post: What kind of die are you?

2006-02-28T10:14:00.000-06:00

Take the quiz at dicepool.com

Normally I wouldn't do this, but I'm in an odd mood. Feel free to share your results in comments.

Anatomy of a Game: Blue Moon

2006-02-23T16:47:00.000-06:00

Anatomy of a Game: Blue Moon For both of you who care, a dissection of the Knizia game Blue Moon, including a discussion of strategy. Did you know that Blue Moon is actually an auction game? (Why yes, Gabrielle, I am looking at you.)

Public Service Announcement

2006-02-23T14:06:00.000-06:00

For those who care, we are selling kefir grains on eBay. Buy early and buy often!

Polaris Actual Play--We Begin Anew!

2006-02-20T23:54:00.000-06:00

(The previous report is here.) (This account was also posted on The Forge. You might find the responses from the folks there to be interesting.) Here we go again. We’ve shuffled the player roster a bit, but we’re back in the game. That’s right. We’re playing Polaris again! Indeed I have three sessions to summarize. So, let’s get to it, shall we? Long ago, the people were dying at the end of the world. Quotables: “You’re the one who possessed him in the first place.” “He’s far too cool to actually draw his sword.” “Because everyone knows you don’t look into a mirror around possessed people.” “Perhaps his miraculous healing threw him off.” Players Since we’ve started a new game, I figure that I’d introduce the players again, including our newest member. Seth—that’s me. I like mythic settings that are more poetic than “real”. I like stories with tragic endings. I am therefore squarely in the target audience for this game. Last game I played Na’ir al-Saif, a younger Knight stuck in the shadow of his older brother. This time I wanted to play a more extroverted character with more opportunities for action. Oh yeah, and I wanted a dragon. Gabrielle—my sister. She has similar tastes to mine in roleplaying, which made Polaris a no-brainer for her. Last game she played Mintaka, a brooding, self-absorbed Knight whose jealousy drove him to murder. This time, she wanted to play someone a bit grander, who perhaps wouldn’t be so internally oriented. Raquel—our friend. Raquel had tried roleplaying with us once before, when I ran Jailbreak from Unknown Armies. That session was mixed success at best; however, her interest in the activity was peaked enough that she had expressed an interest in trying again. Polaris was a much more successful endeavor with her. In our last game, Raquel played Bellatrix, the haughty Knight whose pride brought so much pain to so many. I’m not precisely sure what Raquel was angling for in this game, but I’m guessing from her comments that she was hoping to avoid being the chew-toy for the story. So far, I’m not sure that she’s actually getting her wish. Ralph—another friend. Yep, this is the Ralph Mazza of Universalis fame. He games with us on Friday nights and had expressed an interest in playing Polaris. Actually, it was closer to groveling; he really wanted to play. He is still getting the hang of the Key Phrases, but I think that he is quite enjoying himself. We set up the seating arrangement in the following order, going clockwise around the room: Seth, Gabrielle, Ralph, Raquel. So, for those of you keeping score at home, that means that Ralph and I are a Heart/Mistaken pair, as are Raquel and Gabrielle. Characters Last game, I think that we may have woven our characters a bit too tightly to each other, which kicked things off into a higher gear than may have been good. This time we created characters that were a bit further from each other, which has created a slower game pace. Ralph also discovered a rule that we had missed last game. During character creation, each player gets to add one item to every other player’s character sheet in the section of the Cosmos for which he is responsible. This means that I added one item to Ralph’s Mistaken section, Raquel’s New Moon section, and Gabrielle’s Full Moon section. This was an addition that I appreciated. In this way, each player could actually put his mark on each character before play actually began. As a result, there was a lot more discussion and cross-pollinating of ideas during character generation, which is always a good thing. In the end, we produced four characters. Altair, a reckless dragonrider for the remnant (Seth) Sadal Melick, Champion of Clan Draco, one of the greatest Knights of the remnant (Gabrielle) Rastaban, a Knight-assassin determined to avenge his father’s death (Ralph) Maia of the Order of Mesarthim, a healer-Knight (Raquel) In other words, we have Tom Cruise from Top Gun, Kronk from The Emperor’s New Groove, an elvish ninja, and a fairly well-adjusted, even-keeled Knight. So, of course, we start doing our best to dump all the trouble in the entire game on Raquel. It’s fun! Overview of Play I’m not going to go into any particular details about play. Suffice it to say that our first scene involved Maia accidentally getting one of the lords of the remnant possessed by a nasty demon, and things have gone badly since then. In addition, Altair brought a baby back to the remnant, which he found in the haunted ruins that he obsesses over. This child has already revealed herself to be more than an ordinary child. Indeed, she is the Spring Child. What exactly this means, we haven’t established, although we all have our theories. And, of course, Maia currently has the Spring Child and is about to be at the center of a political firestorm. Fun! On Being a Moon In retrospect, I think that we shortchanged the Moons in our last game. Any character that was in opposition to the Heart ended up being guided by the Mistaken, so frequently the Moons were in a secondary or passive role. Upon further review of the rules, though, I realized that we had been messing this up, so we resolved to change it this game. Hoo boy. What have we released? Bits of the game broke open even further for me. Here’s one example. The scene was centered on Sadal, which meant that Gabrielle was the Heart, Raquel was the Mistaken, and I was Full Moon. In this scene, Sadal is confronting Knight-Captain Megrez who was supposedly accused of being possessed. We all knew that he was not possessed, as the entire situation was the result of a communications mishap that we had seen earlier in the game. However, it seemed to me that it would be boring for Captain Megrez to simply roll over and submit to an exorcism “just in case”. So, instead, I started playing him as having an offended pride, eventually calling in several of his Knights to see this miscreant off. The funny thing about this is that I was heaping on all sorts of trouble, but I was not the Mistaken. According to the logic that we had assumed during our last game, I was “only” a Moon. But I learned an important fact to consider as a Moon. You want to align your interests with either the Heart or Mistaken in a given scene. In this case, I knew that I was giving Gabrielle all sorts of trouble and that, when she finally tried to veto with “But It Was No Matter”, Raquel would be waiting to take up my statements with “We Shall See What Comes Of It”. And she was. On Getting Started When we got together for our first session of actual play, we went over our characters so that we could remember them. Then we stared at each other. Someone needed to get things going, but no one had a good idea. So Gabrielle decided to kill someone. That’ll work. So she started a scene where the Demon in the Mirror killed one of Maia’s patients. Well, that wouldn’t do, of course, so instead the death was negotiated to a possession and then the patient turned out to be an important noble and you can’t let possessed nobles just run around, so Maia tried to chase him, but then she was stopped by someone else needing help…. And things were suddenly in motion. The moral of this story: sometimes you just need something to get things moving, and then everything will be fine. Random Thought Ralph hates elves. He thinks that elves are silly. Ralph hates ninja. He thinks that ninja are silly. Ralph is playing an elvish ninja. And liking it. This game rocks. But that was all long ago, and there are now none who remember it.

Andreas Katsulas dies of lung cancer

2006-02-20T21:01:00.000-06:00

Andreas Katsulas dies of lung cancer. He played the One Armed Man in the movie version of The Fugitive and, more importantly, played G'Kar on Babylon 5.

Lament

2006-02-20T18:24:00.000-06:00

fair flower blown on Heaven's breeze far from my outstretched hand

God's Presents

2006-02-20T14:04:00.000-06:00

A couple of years ago, my wife suffered from chronic chest pain. It would strike at different times but especially in the evening. She would be reduced to soaking in a hot tub, trying to get the pain under control. It was hard on her and on the rest of us, too. We ruled out heart trouble fairly quickly, although that seemed like a reasonable idea. We didn't know quite what to do. And then Crystal's birthday rolled around. I don't recall exactly what we did for a birthday party, but I do remember what I bought as a present for Crystal. It was a cast-iron tea kettle, complete with cast-iron trivet and infuser. It was a beautiful item, and I knew that Crystal would absolutely love it. So, after the party, Crystal had to run an errand. While she was out of the house, I arranged the tea ceremony that I had planned, brewing tea in the new kettle, getting everything ready. I was right. She loved it. She was so very excited. And then the pain set in. In fact, it was the worst that she had ever experienced. The romantic evening was lost beyond recovery. But, there was something about her description of the pain that rang a bell. It was located in her back, not her front. How very odd. A couple of Internet searches, and I had it nailed. Crystal was undergoing a gallbladder attack. We returned to the doctor, and he confirmed the diagnosis. A month later, and Crystal went into the hospital to have her gallbladder removed. She hasn't experienced any pain since. At the time, Crystal's gallbladder attack was a hard providence to accept. But, in retrospect, it was one of the best things that happened to her. Now, we both see it as God's birthday present to her: a diagnosis of an ailment that was plaguing her for months. Why do I write all this now? As I was driving into work this morning, I received word that a co-worker's daughter had died last night. She was sick, but still no one had expected that this would happen so soon. She was only three years old. Just barely three, in fact. Her birthday was last Friday. The family was going to celebrate her birthday, but she was struggling with respiratory issues, so they postponed the party. Now, they will never celebrate it. We gathered together at work to pray for this family. I was in tears, as were many of my co-workers. A common prayer was, "Lord, You know why, even though we don't." And it's hard. It's really hard. Bryan said it best, "Parents aren't supposed to bury their children." And yet, I think back to Crystal's birthday present from God. It was not a pleasant one, but it was really what she needed. And now we can give thanks to God for it. This little girl suffered greatly from her sickness. Now she is free. Her spirit is perfected, and her body awaits the Resurrection, when she will receive a new body which will be perfect in every way. Her sorrow is over. Her suffering is over. Her pain is ended. How is this not a beautiful present from God? I find myself remembering something that I said to my father when my mother died:

When we returned home, I served wine. Everyone gathered in the living room, where I held aloft a goblet of red Fredonia wine and read from Isaiah 25. I explained what we were doing and why. “Mom loved wine,” I said, “and the next wine that she will drink will be in the wedding feast of the Lamb.” And then I turned to my father. “For you, this is a cup of bitterness,” I said, “but remember that for your wife, it is a cup of joy. So drink.” And I gave him the goblet. With tears in his eyes, he drank.

For all of us, most especially her parents, this is a cup of bitterness that we must drink. Yet for this little one, this day is a day of joy. For the first time, she awakens to an endless day of glory. Happy birthday, Hannah. Enjoy your present. We will all be with you soon.

Blue Moon

2006-02-13T17:00:00.000-06:00

Gone Gaming: Blue Moon Blue Moon has risen quickly in the ranks to become one of my favorite games. So, I was happy to see this excellent description of the game posted. So, geek that I am, I thought that I would share it with all of you.

I'm learning to play the guitar!

2006-02-08T14:30:00.000-06:00

I decided that I need to talk less about the arts and practice them more. So, recently, I started to learn how to play the guitar. My friend Bryan is teaching me. His counsel was to pick a song that I knew, find the guitar tabs, and then work through playing it. So, I've finally located my first song: "Hard to Get" by Rich Mullins. It looks fairly straightforward to play, plus it's a song that has personal meaning to me. That all works for me. I hate doing drills to learn something. I want to be able to work on something that I'll be able to use when I'm done learning the skill. This is a song that I'd want to be able to play, so why not start with it? I'll keep you posted on how it goes.

Groundhog Day!

2006-02-02T14:06:00.000-06:00

That's right! It's Groundhog Day! I have a special affinity for this holiday because of some personal history. For most of my tenure at my current job, I've been working on the design, development, deployment, and maintenance of our custom software package. Originally, it was scheduled to be deployed in February 2004. As a result, it earned the name "Groundhog". (In fact, it deployed on May 20, 2004, a date which remains branded in my memory.) I have a hard time understanding how people can make a career out of deploying new software. My one experience was absolutely nerve-wracking. After putting it 12-14 hour days for about a month, I went into work on May 19. I didn't leave until end of business on May 20. I didn't even sleep. All that night was dedicated to data conversion and last-minute testing. We went live at 8:00 a.m. on May 20. My programmer and I then proceeded to try to be everywhere at once, making sure that bugs were getting squashed and users were being cared for. At last, around 3:00 p.m., my exhaustion caught up with me. I went into our single conference room, put my feet up on a chair, and fell into a deep sleep. My family came to pick me up, and my wife drove home. As we left the building and began to head home, I happened to glance out the window. There, by the side of the road, was a groundhog. I closed my eyes and slept. Happy Groundhog Day, everyone!

Tolkien on history

2006-02-01T16:58:00.000-06:00

Well, here's the followup to this post that I promised.

In the "Foreword to the Second Edition" to The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien writes the following: Other arrangements could be devised according to the tastes or views of those who like allegory or topical reference. But I cordially dislike allegeroy in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence. I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the though and expereince of readers. I think that many confuse 'applicability' with 'allegory'; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.

(emphasis mine) One of the things that I like about The Lord of the Rings is that it isn't an allegory. Instead, it provides plenty of material for consideration that can be applied to one's own life and experience. According to Tolkien, this is a result of its being a history (of imaginary events), rather than its being written to convey a certain point. The reader absorbs the patterns and principles on display in the history and then must take the next step of figuring out what they mean in his own life. In this way, the reader is shaped by grappling with the narrative. I wonder if this is why so much of the Bible is historical narrative. There's not one point. Instead, the reader is faced with the patterns and principles on display in the text and then must take the next step of figuring out what they mean in his own life. Thus, the reader's life is shaped by grappling with the narrative. This has implications for teaching and preaching through the narratives. Rather than trying to figure out "the point" of this text in the Bible, perhaps Bible teachers need to draw out some of the patterns and principles that are on display and make application in this fashion. Of course, this means that teaching the Bible becomes more like teaching a good literature class, which may not be a bad thing, either.

Mature Bible Reading

2006-01-25T23:34:00.000-06:00

Mature Bible Reading This links directly into some Tolkien thoughts that I had...which I will share later. Stay tuned!

Art and the oppressed

2006-01-25T21:08:00.000-06:00

On another blog, I waxed eloquent about art. In particular, I said this:

One aspect of a Christian approach to the arts needs to be a dignifying of the "common"....Of course, the "overlooked" and "common" include people. The world overlooks the weak and powerless as being meaningless. However, as the hands of God, we cannot afford to pass over those who are neglected. Dignifying the common includes pointing to the image of God in the common and overlooked people around us. Another task of the Christian artist is to speak for those who would speak but are unable. Doesn't this include being a voice for the voiceless and a protector for the oppressed?

Adiel requested some elaboration of this point. So, here goes. Hang on to your hats; this is a weird tour through my mind. Ready? One of the turning points for my understanding of aesthetics was a lecture given by Michael Card at the 2003 Evangelical Press Association convention. One of his points was the necessity for artists to live in community. Not with other artists, mind you. With "normal people". As a result, then, the artist works on addressing the artistic needs of his community. For example, one facet of this, according to Card, is to voice the feelings of others for them. This was noted in the context of laments, for instance. I put this together with a lecture from George Grant on the infamous Philippians 4:8:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

In this lecture, he discussed each word in that verse. Along the way, he talked about how Christianity ennobles the common, that Biblical values bring nobility and worth to that which is otherwise overlooked. Things like motherhood or hard work. I take all of this and put it together with my developing understanding of the role of the Church in society. I see a portion of the prophetic voice to be the voice from outside the world system that critiques the assumptions and claims of power by those who are mighty. An extended quote from David Dark fits here:

Apocalyptic, correctly understood, reminds us that the language of "the kingdom of God" isn't referring to some politically irrelevant eternity of otherworldly existence. To say that it is "at hand" or "hear" is a directive to "repent" and enter into a new way of life that aligns itself with the purposes of shalom. If we miss the political significance of the Lord's Prayer, for instance, we entirely miss its meaning as a call for apocalypse now that acknowledges, invites, and pledges allegiance to the age to come while forcefully renouuncing the legitimacy of whatever lesser gods compete for our adoration. ("Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory"). We're assisted in our understanding of what's at stake in these matters when we note John Milbank's description of the crucifixation and, we might add, the persecution of the early church as "the rejection by the political-economic order of a completely new sort of social imagination." Apocalyptic was and is the only language adequate to describe this new beginning while maintaining its practice as one of constant exodus. It keeps religion strange and ready to question the given "reality" of the day. Without apocalyptic, no questioning occurs and the biblical voice is easily edited (or censored) to the point that it appears to support whatever sentimental sap or suburban self-improvement program it's pasted upon. What should have been, for starters, good news for the poor and down-trodden is neatly packaged (and quoted out of context) to look good beside a basket full of puppies on a greeting card. A political-economic order has nothing to fear from a sentimental, fully "spiritualized" faith."

(Everyday Apocalypse, p. 14-15. Bolded emphasis mine.) Or, to quote from Psalm 146, "Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in Yahweh his God...who executes justice for the oppressed." (Psalm 146:5,7a) Add to this the comments of Peter Leithart, when discussing the political ramifications of the Lord's Supper. We welcome all believers to the Lord's Table, be they rich or poor, strong or weak, young or old, white or black, healthly or sick, whole or crippled. By doing so, we acknowledge that all these belong with us. The apostle Paul writes, "On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another." (1 Corinthians 12:22-25) The world finds no value in the weak, the sick, or the crippled. Yet it is precisely these people that God gathers together into His Church. So, as Christians striving to be artists, we must consider this aspect of God's nature. So, how do we do this? I have several thoughts. Obviously, there is the depiction of the oppressed to the oppressor. This is a fairly common use of art, if you think about it, although it frequently becomes merely propaganda. There's also providing the tools of expression to the oppressed. Just consider the anonymous authors of the Negro spirituals. They wrote songs for their oppressed people, which gave them to words to sing of heaven. You can also create works that embody the valuing of the weak and oppressed. Consider The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien understood that God uses the weak to shame the strong, which is why he wrote about hobbits. Finally, you can create works which encourage a certain way of thinking. A great example of this is the game Go. I have said that I enjoy playing Go because the thought processes that are required to play Go are the same that lead to good living. The experience of the game leads to congruent thought patterns elsewhere. So, in some sense, I do think that playing Go has made me a better person. Now, let's go back to haiku. I completely agree that part of haiku is pointing attention at the overlooked. Haiku can therefore be used to call attention to overlooked people. The haiku poet Issa is particularly well-known for this. Some of his haiku carry with them such a powerful rage against suffering and oppression that it's almost painful to read. Here's are a couple of examples: This stupid world-- skinny mosquitoes, skinny fleas skinny children The fat priest-- edging out while he reads the last prayer Feel the rage? Also, haiku places certain demands on the reader. The moment depicted is boiled down to its essential points; the rest must be filled in by the reader. This is characteristic of the Zen aesthetic, which tends to erode the creator/audience division. As a result, haiku cannot merely be read; they must be contemplated. I might even say that they need to be meditated upon. This attitude of contemplation or meditation carries over into the rest of life. Suddenly, you find yourself watching leaves blowing along the road or cream swirling in your coffee and realize that these things matter. And then, perhaps, you look at the unnoticed people around you, the ones that are mere details in your life, and you realize that they also matter. Like the cashier at the grocery store, the one that everyone treats as though she were merely the biological wetware of the point of sale system. Maybe even she has started to believe it. But you know better, don't you? Because there is immeasurable worth in the commonplace. As Tolkien wrote, "All that is gold does not glitter." All that from haiku? Absolutely. One of the battles of our day is the battle for the arts. Many of you who are reading this desire to pursue the fine arts as a calling or career. Remember that your calling is high. The arts are merely another avenue for ministry, and you must do your part. Michael Card points as Jesus' washing the disciples' feet and says, "If your art isn't washing someone else's feet, then what good is it?" Whose feet are you washing with your art? Is your art really any good? Or are you just lusting after the limelight? Something to contemplate, eh?

The time has come again...

2006-01-23T23:48:00.000-06:00

Yep. I'm between books, and the urge is upon me. It's time to read Lord of the Rings again. Believe it or not, I have more to say on this, but it will have to wait until a later date.

Fun quote!

2006-01-16T17:50:00.000-06:00

“We've heard that a million monkeys at a million keyboards could produce the complete works of Shakespeare; now, thanks to the Internet, we know that is not true.” - Robert Wilensky

Polaris is about activism

2006-01-16T10:34:00.000-06:00

According to its designer, Polaris is about activism. In light of my recent discussion, I thought that this was quite interesting. After all, as Christians, we have an escape from the downward spiral of uncaring that is described in this thread. FYI, there is the use of language in this thread. (Aside: I think that the expression "the use of language" is really quite funny.)

Hold on

2006-01-11T11:01:00.000-06:00

So, life has been difficult recently. In particular, we have been leading up to Justice's hernia surgery, which was an experience that I was dreading. Everyone was telling me that it was a simple procedure, that it would be better for him, that he would be a happier person because of it. And, sure, I believed them, but still, there's that part when the nurses come and take him away.... I wasn't looking forward to it. Not at all. So, the other night, as Justice lay on our bed and burbled, I lay there, looking at him and being melancholy. It's at times like this that I wonder about Adam. "If you had known what pain you would cause, would you still have done it?" And I think of all the awful things that we have to do in this world, just to survive, and it hurts me. Just think about what "surgery" is. First, we will pump you full of chemicals to render you unconscious, hovering near death. Then, we will cut you open so that we can poke at your insides. Then we will sew you back up. Cutting to heal. If that's not messed up, I don't know what is. I'm not saying that it's wrong, mind you, but it seems like one more way that this world is seriously broken. And I want out. I'm not feeling suicidal or anything. I'm just tired of it all. So I was driving back from the store today, and I was listening to Andrew Peterson's latest album, The Far Country. In one song, he talks about the "cloud of witnesses" from Hebrews 12:1.

I saw the sun go down on a frozen ocean As the man in the moon was rising And he rode the night all full and bright With his face at the far horizon And the night can be so long, so long You think you’ll never get up again But listen now, it’s a mighty cloud of Witnesses around you—they say “Hold on, just hold on Hold on to the end And all shall be well”

And it occurs to me that, in that cloud of witnesses, is my mother and my grandfather and my grandmother. They all made it through, and now they are pulling for the rest of us. "Hold on to the end." They made it through. Jesus made it through. Maybe I can hold on a bit longer. (Justice came through his hernia surgery just fine. He is home now and resting peacefully.)